Killminister
Well-Known Member
First a little background. I started turkey hunting in the Spring of 08. I am originally from Lawrenceburg, Tn but I had just moved to Maury County (Columbia) to help plant a Church, after spending 8 years in P'cola Fl, in ministry. Bvoss, was kind enough to help me get started, and he called in my first bird that spring. 10" Beard & 1 in spurs @ 19 steps. After Bvoss worked that bird for about 1 1/2 hours, seeing it strut, hearing it gobble, and pulling the trigger, I knew I was hooked for life. Nothing else that I had ever participated in even compared. A great first season and a beginning to a life long passion. Spring of 09', started out great in that I called in my first bird by myself, which felt like a huge accomplishment to me. 9" beard and 1" spurs @ 21 steps on some private land. The season kind of tapered off from there. My third season (last year), wasn't as kind with the long beard, but I did take 2 public land jakes, 1 solo & and 1 double with a friend. Some good experience nevertheless. My fourth season (this year) has been incredible in comparison, with a bittersweet ending.
*1st week of season. Missed a long beard at 15 steps. Bvoss called in a double that we were completely unaware of as they came from 250 yards out, completely quite the last 150 yards. We stood up too early, they putted, and I took a desperation shot which proved this season not to be easily done in less than 15 yards on spooked birds, with a red dot scope.
*2nd week of season. Hunting solo on WMA, I killed a double beard with 11" & 8", and 1 1/4 spurs. They pitched down over me in an adjacent field. I crept to the fence row separating the fields to see the tom and 5 hens about 100 yards away. I started calling with no apparent response. After about 20 minutes, I cut real aggressively on my slate and immediately the boss hen cut 100 yards in about 60 seconds, bringing the whole crew. She stopped 5 yards in front of me looking at me, then moved on. The long-beard followed her and crossed in front of me at 32 steps. First bird of the season and most of the people reading this right now knew just exactly how I felt at that moment.
*4th week of the season- Solo hunt. Visited a private farm for the first time this season, in the middle of the day. Saw a Long-beard and a hen about 100 yards away. Decided to leave and come back the next morning to get close to where he was roosted. There were severe thunderstorms that morning, and I had never hunted in anything remotely close to how bad the weather was. (It was the morning that preceded the Alabama tornadoes, Cullman, Tuscaloosa,...)But I felt good about this bird, so I went anyway. This farm had 2 ridges of hardwoods with about 200 yards of pasture separating that made it very difficult to move on the birds. Not knowing which ridge he was roosted, I unfortunately picked the wrong ridge. He gobbled so late, that I wasn't able to move on him. I set up my hen and begin to call. I saw him pitch down about 250 yards away. I called for about 45 minutes. Just happen to look over at my 3 O'clock to see him coming in quite. He turned around for a split second, I swung around and busted him at 42 steps. Really old bird. Partially bare breasted with a 10' beard. One spur was 1 1/2 exactly and one was broke.
*Last week of season, I hunted with Bvoss at one of his private farms. He had to leave early to go to work, but was kind enough to let me continue hunting. Heard several birds. Called in a group of jakes from a couple hundred yards. I thought a longbeard was in there with them. The bird popped his head over the ridge at 15 steps, busted me, putted, I took a bad shot again and missed. When I crossed the ridge, I saw four of them and they all looked like jakes, so I wasn't too upset. I decided to stick it out and ended up getting set up on 4 more longbeards in the field. I had called, but then moved in a little closer at a different location. One finally broke the group and started coming to my previous location where I had called about 15 min earlier. Didn't matter since he stepped into range at 32 steps. 9" beard & 1" spurs. #3 was down and the dream season continued.
*Final weekend. I went to another private farm of a friend where I hadn't had any luck this season. I watched a big tom own a field the whole season and changed his roosting pattern like crazy. We threw everything but the kitchen sink at him, and it was useless. The last day I decided to avoid conventional wisdom and set up B-mobile, the only thing he hadn't seen so far. I called. He came in quite after about 45 minutes right on my left shoulder. I was completely out in the open and had just called so he was more focused on me now than the decoys. He was strutting but came out of strut and was looking at me very warily, instead of the decoys. I got too impatient, swung the gun, he putted immediately and took off and I took a very low percentage shot and missed. 12 steps. I wanted to puke.
Only a turkey hunter would know the wide variety of emotions that have been going through my head this weekend and even now. Honestly I am Monday Morning Quaterbacking so much right now, with all of the "coulda's, woulda's, and shoulda's" that it's still sickening. The thought of being able to tag out, all solo birds, in only my fourth season and I choked. Then I get angry at myself, because this morning I am realizing that it shouldn't be about any of that. Tagging out or solo hunting shouldn't be my goal. I don't want this passion to be ruined by a spirit of competition or or unhealthy expectations. Sure my pride and ego want's to say, "yeah I got all four birds by myself" and to know that I am finally getting the hang of it... BUT That's not why I started this journey to begin with. I started because I was able to participate in one of the most incredible activities there's ever been. I started because I was able to interact and hunt one of the most amazing creatures that I had ever seen. I started because this was an opportunity to participate in a type of hunting that's so easily shared with close friends and family. I started this journey because as silly as it sounds, I've felt the presence and pleasure of God just as much in the stillness of the woods behind my 870 as I do in a Church full of people, preaching behind the pulpit. I started because I remember how I felt the first time I pulled the trigger and the sense of joy that came across the face of one of my closest friends, Bvoss, and I knew from that moment that I wanted to be able to one day give that experience to other friends, kids, and children of my own. At the end of the day, I may have an extra tag resting uselessly in my wallet, hurt pride, and a wounded ego. But a few other things that I also have is my health, a wonderful family, great friends, my relationship with the Lord, a season full of experience learned from my success's and failures, and 3 great stories to tell my kid's one day. And for that, I am extremely thankful. And to be honest, when My daughter Macie, who is 4, told me this morning "Daddy, I love you bigger than the spurs on a Turkey", I figured it was probably a good thing that season has come to an end. I've talked way too much about turkey hunting this season. To everybody on here, I appreciate your wisdom and advice and thankful to share our experiences together. Seems like I stumbled on a pretty tight knit family of turkey hunters and I look forward to getting to know you all better. Guess I'll leave you with a little picture review of the season.
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*1st week of season. Missed a long beard at 15 steps. Bvoss called in a double that we were completely unaware of as they came from 250 yards out, completely quite the last 150 yards. We stood up too early, they putted, and I took a desperation shot which proved this season not to be easily done in less than 15 yards on spooked birds, with a red dot scope.
*2nd week of season. Hunting solo on WMA, I killed a double beard with 11" & 8", and 1 1/4 spurs. They pitched down over me in an adjacent field. I crept to the fence row separating the fields to see the tom and 5 hens about 100 yards away. I started calling with no apparent response. After about 20 minutes, I cut real aggressively on my slate and immediately the boss hen cut 100 yards in about 60 seconds, bringing the whole crew. She stopped 5 yards in front of me looking at me, then moved on. The long-beard followed her and crossed in front of me at 32 steps. First bird of the season and most of the people reading this right now knew just exactly how I felt at that moment.
*4th week of the season- Solo hunt. Visited a private farm for the first time this season, in the middle of the day. Saw a Long-beard and a hen about 100 yards away. Decided to leave and come back the next morning to get close to where he was roosted. There were severe thunderstorms that morning, and I had never hunted in anything remotely close to how bad the weather was. (It was the morning that preceded the Alabama tornadoes, Cullman, Tuscaloosa,...)But I felt good about this bird, so I went anyway. This farm had 2 ridges of hardwoods with about 200 yards of pasture separating that made it very difficult to move on the birds. Not knowing which ridge he was roosted, I unfortunately picked the wrong ridge. He gobbled so late, that I wasn't able to move on him. I set up my hen and begin to call. I saw him pitch down about 250 yards away. I called for about 45 minutes. Just happen to look over at my 3 O'clock to see him coming in quite. He turned around for a split second, I swung around and busted him at 42 steps. Really old bird. Partially bare breasted with a 10' beard. One spur was 1 1/2 exactly and one was broke.
*Last week of season, I hunted with Bvoss at one of his private farms. He had to leave early to go to work, but was kind enough to let me continue hunting. Heard several birds. Called in a group of jakes from a couple hundred yards. I thought a longbeard was in there with them. The bird popped his head over the ridge at 15 steps, busted me, putted, I took a bad shot again and missed. When I crossed the ridge, I saw four of them and they all looked like jakes, so I wasn't too upset. I decided to stick it out and ended up getting set up on 4 more longbeards in the field. I had called, but then moved in a little closer at a different location. One finally broke the group and started coming to my previous location where I had called about 15 min earlier. Didn't matter since he stepped into range at 32 steps. 9" beard & 1" spurs. #3 was down and the dream season continued.
*Final weekend. I went to another private farm of a friend where I hadn't had any luck this season. I watched a big tom own a field the whole season and changed his roosting pattern like crazy. We threw everything but the kitchen sink at him, and it was useless. The last day I decided to avoid conventional wisdom and set up B-mobile, the only thing he hadn't seen so far. I called. He came in quite after about 45 minutes right on my left shoulder. I was completely out in the open and had just called so he was more focused on me now than the decoys. He was strutting but came out of strut and was looking at me very warily, instead of the decoys. I got too impatient, swung the gun, he putted immediately and took off and I took a very low percentage shot and missed. 12 steps. I wanted to puke.
Only a turkey hunter would know the wide variety of emotions that have been going through my head this weekend and even now. Honestly I am Monday Morning Quaterbacking so much right now, with all of the "coulda's, woulda's, and shoulda's" that it's still sickening. The thought of being able to tag out, all solo birds, in only my fourth season and I choked. Then I get angry at myself, because this morning I am realizing that it shouldn't be about any of that. Tagging out or solo hunting shouldn't be my goal. I don't want this passion to be ruined by a spirit of competition or or unhealthy expectations. Sure my pride and ego want's to say, "yeah I got all four birds by myself" and to know that I am finally getting the hang of it... BUT That's not why I started this journey to begin with. I started because I was able to participate in one of the most incredible activities there's ever been. I started because I was able to interact and hunt one of the most amazing creatures that I had ever seen. I started because this was an opportunity to participate in a type of hunting that's so easily shared with close friends and family. I started this journey because as silly as it sounds, I've felt the presence and pleasure of God just as much in the stillness of the woods behind my 870 as I do in a Church full of people, preaching behind the pulpit. I started because I remember how I felt the first time I pulled the trigger and the sense of joy that came across the face of one of my closest friends, Bvoss, and I knew from that moment that I wanted to be able to one day give that experience to other friends, kids, and children of my own. At the end of the day, I may have an extra tag resting uselessly in my wallet, hurt pride, and a wounded ego. But a few other things that I also have is my health, a wonderful family, great friends, my relationship with the Lord, a season full of experience learned from my success's and failures, and 3 great stories to tell my kid's one day. And for that, I am extremely thankful. And to be honest, when My daughter Macie, who is 4, told me this morning "Daddy, I love you bigger than the spurs on a Turkey", I figured it was probably a good thing that season has come to an end. I've talked way too much about turkey hunting this season. To everybody on here, I appreciate your wisdom and advice and thankful to share our experiences together. Seems like I stumbled on a pretty tight knit family of turkey hunters and I look forward to getting to know you all better. Guess I'll leave you with a little picture review of the season.
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